in my sweaty palm, melting
is medical-pink candy coating.
the pieces click, clack, roll around,
and the generic sugar tastes sweeter
than ever, sweet like a fever, sweet
like smiles under the concrete bridge.

tastes like sweet'n'low piled high in one-
dollar coffee drained in two seconds,
like buttercream frosting smeared
across your arm. tastes of the indoors,
of doors shut, of stale snicker-doodles.
it is sugar that tastes like promises gone far.

when i swallow (that is three, four, twenty more)
i can taste it in the pit of my stomach:
sweet, sweet candy coating masking
the poison, the anodyne, the analgesic—
candy coating to cover all the little scars.

my fingers have become bored with
the quicksand of routine
they prefer to dance erotically over my typewriter
frolicking like naked ballerinas
over an ancient stage
spilling their secret thoughts
onto blank page,
after their day job
threaded together
over my lap,
or bending over to
reveal the contents
of my burlap sack

they have taken instead
to jumping over cracks
in the nothing of night
stifling the sound of silence
with assortments of clicks and clacks
punching in the perfect pitch of keys
to leave Beethoven blind
from this symphony of notes combined

and just like that at last
they have unfolded some rhyme
unachievable with ink and pencil,
without the stencil of time
dictating to work inside the lines

you get so used to something;
to someone;
never expect them to abandon you
though you condoned their departure

you saw it coming

it was all experienced yesterday
except, then
it was only a distant speck
you brushed away the dust you kicked up and
ignored the arguments that weighed on your conscience

you saw it coming

yet it still hits you like a freight train
with your back to it;
your earphones in
because you were trying to enjoy a walk
on such dangerous tracks;
such thin ice

you saw it coming

so what choice do you now have
but to finally collapse;
to let it run you over
and let your
omniscient bones
break?

you saw it coming,
but you let it hit you anyway.


please, get out of the way next time.

(how could you be fine)

In bed

     for the first time
I am watching you
  
   in the bathroom
     brushing your teeth

just the right chunk of light
     enough to see

a magenta vest

your only tattoo
sneaking out from the top
   of black shorts

your clock notifies me
   it is ten past twelve

a dog yaps in sporadic bursts
   outside a siren whines
only to die seconds later

     but I am captivated
by your shape

the backs of your feet

   a little fraction of skin
     under the belly-button

   and if this is to become
commonplace

an ordinary event

   I will sleep every night
with a smile

     painted over my dreams

You crystal ballroom, all windows and walls, sewing light like seed over everything you touch.
Glass eyed stare, hands growing like they're getting away with something.
Everything you love is a trick of the light.
Everything it touches feels just like you.
Hiding heads under street-lamps like sin is some sort of choice we make, like growing is something to be done in silence.
They say that people in glasshouses shouldn't throw pebbles, but how can you expect to let people in if you can't even get out?

My grandmother looks straight though me, thoughts locked in, hands clamped around her bag of dead friends like holding them tight enough could bring them back. 
She tells me how full of life I am. I want to tell her how we all carry echoes around in our pockets but I don't think she'd understand.

And I just want to call you. Hand you everything I have like:
'Here's the dirt from under my nails. Call it apology. I hope it finally makes something grow'
'Here's that poem I never finished. Here's to hallelujah. Here's to all your leaving'
'Here's my storm cloud. Here's my salt spray.  Here's my window all dusted and bruised. I don't know how else to tell you that I have loved you in all four seasons'.

Everything you love will one day become sandstorm, cliff face, the blunt edge of a knife.
One day it won't be you holding the match.

Everything you love will turn back to dust
Everything you love will turn back to light